Mind's Eye - Part 13
Jarod fired blindly into the forest, squeezing off two rounds in the direction he thought he last heard Stoltz. There were more fallen trees to right. A quick calculation in his head, and thought he might be able to disorient Stoltz long enough to make a run for the radio.
He looked back at Neil, feeling helpless to protect him should Stoltz get close enough to hit his mark. It might not matter at all, Jarod knew, because Neil was fading fast in the cold night. The resolution to the battle would have to come soon if there was any hope of saving Case and getting him the medical care he so desperately needed.
A blip of movement caught his eye. He let go with another shot, trying to keep Stoltz from gaining ground. Jarod was rewarded with a return attack that landed perilously close to his head. He could feel the displaced air sweep up around his left ear as the bullet passed by him. It embedded itself in the large maple behind him with a quiet thunking sound. Bits of bark splintered off and sprayed on to his jacket. He wondered what it was exactly Stoltz was using to attack. He had assumed from Neil's wound that it was a bullet, but he knew Stoltz could have been using anything for an arsenal. Carefully, he turned toward the trunk. In a beam of light from the sky, he could make out the butt end of a copper-jacketed shell in the wood. Peter was using the instruments of death taught to him by Raines.
Stoltz definitely had range on both of them from whatever vantage he had attained in the woods. The light of the moon was simply not bright enough to reveal anything more than shadows under the dense pack of trees. Jarod's brain seemed to vibrate as he played through various options for the scenario. He could go for the radio as planned, but Neil was right – Stoltz would win the battle with a clear shot. They could continue the cat and mouse game all night long, except that where Jarod's supply of ammunition was limited, Stoltz had the luxury of anything his mind could move as weapons. Simple stones could turn into projectiles that would kill if they found their mark. More importantly, Neil's body would not hold up against the passage of time. His life was slipping away with each minute.
Jarod concluded there was only one thing to do. It was the one option most strategists would consider insane, but this was no ordinary battle situation. The rules of war did not apply because the mode of attack was anything but conventional. The answer to the scenario was simple.
He would counterattack Stoltz with everything he had.
If he failed, Case was dead. If he did nothing, the result would be the same. In order to gain a foothold against Stoltz, Jarod would have to find a better position closer to his assailant. It would draw the battle away from Neil, keeping him safe from Stoltz's attention.
Jarod waited patiently until he saw movement from the woods. He leapt from his hiding place and let loose three quick shots from his nine-millimeter. He bounded across the trail in two steps, running as he used the trees for cover. It confused Stoltz for only a moment before he began to strike back at Jarod's maneuvers.
Bullets followed Jarod's path in succession, but they were not accurate enough to catch up with the pretender. He spotted another large maple and took cover behind it. More bullets came his way, but none found their target. His heart raced with a surge of adrenaline that set his senses on fire. He felt wildly out of control, as though a prehistoric hunting instinct was beginning to surface after laying dormant for thousands of years of human evolution. A shift in focus began to emerge. If he had any hope of beating Stoltz, he would have to become Stoltz.
He would have to pretend to be the assassin hunting him.
Stoltz, of course, had the advantage of telekinesis. Jarod had no way of emulating that factor. He could, however, anticipate how Stoltz would react to a counterattack that was performed with intent. His mind replayed the DSA recordings at lightning speed. Raines had trained Stoltz to react to being tracked and chased. He had taught Peter how to evade capture, how to effectively neutralize a target and how to disappear into nothingness when the task was done. What Raines had not taught the boy was how to deal with being the hunted. Twenty-five years later, the inadequacies of the programming would still be intact in the man. It was the advantage Jarod needed.
Again, Jarod tried to get a fix on Stoltz. He peered around the tree and listened for any sounds. Stoltz was moving into a different position, closer and closer to Neil Case, his intended victim. The moment of opportunity was presenting itself, quite possibly the only time it would.
Jarod sprang from behind the tree with a primal yell, firing wide at Stoltz until his gun was empty. Stoltz froze for a moment before reacting to Jarod's attack. Jarod saw his eyes, saw fear where it should not have been. Peter turned and began sprinting through the woods, leaping over anything that got in his way.
A dead heat ensued. Jarod could not afford for Stoltz to escape. Peter needed help, needed to be free from the clutches of the Centre and the atrocities it had inflicted on him as a boy. He also needed to be contained from ever carrying out the program buried deep within his mind on anyone else. He was a walking, breathing weapon of war that would no doubt lead to others like him.
Jarod's lungs burned as he kept pace. Stoltz was quick, bounding over obstacles like an adept animal. He was headed in the direction of deep woods when he suddenly veered left in his steps, making yet another turn back toward Neil's hiding place. He gave a quick look back at Jarod, judging the distance between them, and stopped abruptly. He reached into his pocket, held out his hand, palm up, and pointed it toward Jarod.
The ground was cold and soggy where Jarod landed as he dove for cover. Arm over his head, he heard the bullet whistle past him and skip off a large rock. Stoltz may have had a hard time doing two things at once, but he was dangerously accurate when he concentrated on sending projectiles at his enemies.
Jarod squeezed the trigger on the Taurus only to hear a succession of clicks. His gun was empty. A flip of his thumb ejected the magazine in the gun as he reached for another on his belt, trying to keep an eye on Stoltz. He slapped the replacement into the butt of the gun and pulled the slide back to chamber a new round. He fired off two shots toward Peter's left, trying to drive him away from Neil, who lay wounded along Burke's Trail. It was the only way Jarod could lead Stoltz away from the path and back into the woods. In the deep woods, there was cover. Along the trail, the trees had been thinned to allow pedestrian passage through the forest. There were fewer places to crouch behind in order to avoid getting hit.
Three more shots, and the barrel of Jarod's gun was smoking. He did not want to hit Stoltz, but he would if he had to in order to save the life of Neil Case.
Peter calmly stepped out of sight behind a tree while Jarod frantically rolled toward another. Even at a distance, it was easy to see the frigid air turn into clouded puffs from the panting caused by Peter's run. He was getting tired, just like Jarod was. There was a momentary lull in the battle as both men recouped energy. Thoughts were occurring to Jarod that did not seem to have a place during the moment, but an inner voice kept sounding, telling him that he had to try to talk to Stoltz. He wanted to believe that there was some piece of the boy Peter once was buried deep within the warped psyche imposed by Raines.
"Peter Stoltz!" Jarod shouted, his voice echoing in the night. The only response was the sound of rustling leaves and footsteps in the distance. Jarod ducked around the tree to find him, but the sound was coming from another angle. Something was wrong. Stoltz was not the one moving. Jarod could still see Peter's breath in the moonlight near the tree. There was someone else out there, another player in the game. Without a radio, he had no way of knowing if his backup had arrived. He considered it might be Neil coming to help, but the moment was too quick, too fluid to be anyone with a wound a serious as his.
"Peter!" Jarod yelled again. "It's time to stop running. I know what the Centre did to you. I know Doctor Raines told you this is what you have to do, but he was lying to you. You don't have to kill anyone."
The other player moved again, seeming to take up a position between Stoltz and the trail. Jarod could not deny the comfort he took in the fact, except he had no idea who the other person was. For all he knew, it could have been an accomplice for Stoltz. No, he reasoned, an accomplice would have maneuvered by now so the two could converge on Jarod's position and eliminate him. Whoever it was, if they were on the side of the good guys, did not have a clear shot at Stoltz, either.
Suddenly, two shots emanated from the direction of the stranger. It was the catalyst needed to get Stoltz away from Neil. The lull in the chase was over. Peter bolted for the deep woods again, running at breakneck speed to escape his pursuers. In a brief look, Jarod caught sight of his anonymous comrade before taking off after Stoltz. He could not see any features, nor did he register if they would chase Peter together through the forest.
Stoltz still had a decent head start in front of Jarod. Thirty yards meant the world when running through the thickening landscape. The stand of trees grew denser, causing the chase to slow down considerably as navigation increased in difficulty. The land was beginning to slope downward, leading toward a ravine. A creek lay at the bottom, running headlong into the Broadkill River to the south of Prime Hook.
Jarod could hear his mystery partner coming up from behind and to the left of him, trying to head off Stoltz before he could make a clear run for the ravine and the creek. He decided to make it work to his advantage. He fired four times wide and to the right of Stoltz, making him veer away and toward the stranger's flanking position. So far, he had failed to catch up to Peter. Perhaps someone else would have a better chance if they worked together.
The area ahead and to the right of Jarod seemed more open, which would allow him to bridge the distance between him and Stoltz. It was risky, because there were fewer places to take cover should Stoltz focus on him again, but he had no choice. At the rate he was going, Jarod would never catch up in time to stop him before he reached the ravine.
The theory worked. Pushing his body's limits, Jarod managed to come into a parallel position with Stoltz. It was dangerous, but somehow Stoltz had missed the maneuver. His attention had been on whomever else was with them. Jarod could see both of them now, battling for position amid the hiding spots just above the ravine. Peter avoided areas lit by the moon. So did the stranger.
The stranger fired again at Stoltz, apparently not seeing or simply not caring that Jarod was in the line of fire. Though the shots missed their purchase on either man, they were still too close for comfort. Jarod backed off his position just a bit so that he was not directly in danger of a shot missing Stoltz and ending up in his own body. That was when it became clear the moment to strike was fast approaching. Everyone was in position to make it happen. Jarod would still be in the line of fire, but the other player would soon know where he was and could avoid sending anything his way.
Jarod moved closer, watching the exchange of hostilities between the two. He wanted to get in as close as he could before striking. The stranger would keep Stoltz busy for the time it would take to get there, which was fortunate. There was only one bullet left in the Taurus. The pretender's movements were quiet and deliberate, careful not to make noise as he edged closer to Stoltz.
Stoltz, though, was not to be fooled. He turned in Jarod's direction and let go with another shot. The darkness was Jarod's savior as it missed again. He lunged forward, trying to find protection in the ruts of the land.
As Jarod lay there, he thought he heard a steady rumble in the distance, something so quiet it was hardly observed in the heat of the moment. He tried to find the direction, the source, but the echo in the forest was confusing. As the sound drew closer, it bounced off the trees and the boulders above the ravine, creating a repeating effect. A helicopter or plane was approaching at low altitude.
There was no time to worry about any aircraft. Stoltz was attacking both Jarod and the stranger with abandon. Projectiles whined erratically through the air in an attempt to hit something that would buy him time. There was desperation to his acts, as though he realized his assailants were too close for him to escape without incident. He was in danger of being caught.
The distant rumble was growing. Jarod knew for certain that it was a helicopter was bearing down on them. How did they know where to look, though? Infrared was the most likely answer. The big question remained – who was in it? Dread washed over Jarod.
Had the Centre had found them so quickly?
They would take Peter back, and they would try to take Jarod back. Neil would die, and no one would be able to explain what had happened to him. That brought about another question for Jarod – just who was the other person with him chasing Stoltz? It could not have been a sweeper. A sweeper would have taken Jarod out of the game by now.
The helicopter had to be the Centre, though. They would want Stoltz back, and they would know just where to find him if Raines remembered everything. Jarod knew he could not allow that to happen.
Just as he was about to make another plea to Stoltz, the blades of the chopper roared overhead. A blinding spotlight kicked on, dousing Peter in stark whiteness that drowned out all but the sharpest features of his face. For the first time, Jarod saw the clothes Stoltz had on, noting the camouflage that allowed him to blend into his surroundings.
Stoltz looked upward at the helicopter, shielding his eyes from the light with one hand and clutching his other in a fist. He looked panicked and bewildered as he stumbled backward, trying to get away from it. He tried to find his pursuers in the commotion, but the spotlight remained trained on his form.
Jarod looked beyond the spotlight's diameter when he saw the third player move toward Stoltz, preparing to capture him. Jarod sprang up and ran for Stoltz. Even though the stranger had seemed to be helping in the chase, there was no guarantee of benevolence toward Stoltz if and when he was brought under control. He was vulnerable and helpless against the chaos, with no ability to concentrate.
Peter was becoming frantic under the lights of the helicopter. The engine roared as it hovered. He tried in vain to block out the power light with his hand. Jarod was closing in on Stoltz. So close, just a few more feet, and he would be there, shielding Peter from whatever might harm him. Just steps away, Stoltz turned and saw Jarod coming at him. He reeled backward in an awkward tumble, stumbling to get away before he could be caught.
Stoltz stopped moving for a split second. Then he emitted a guttural scream. The object in his fist flew off into the darkness and he plummeted to the ground, writhing in an insane manner. Jarod approached quickly, taking the moment while it presented itself to bring Stoltz into custody. Only then did he realize what had brought Stoltz down and had rendered him helpless. A claw trap hidden in the underbrush had sunk into Peter's ankle, breaking skin and bone. He would not be running away any time soon.
The swirl of air from the rotor blades whipped dead leaves off the ground as Jarod snapped handcuffs on Peter to keep him from using his hands as the weapons they were trained to be. The helicopter continued to hover and provide light to the situation as Jarod moved down to Peter's ankle to release the trap. When he did, blood began to flow freely from the wound. Again, Stoltz screamed in pain. Jarod's reaction was swift as he holstered his gun. He removed his belt and used it as a tourniquet to staunch the blood loss. The trap had cut deeply into Peter's ankle, severing an artery. He would die without help.
Even though his concern for the moment was for Stoltz, what he really wanted was to get back to Neil and get him the help he needed. Peter was going nowhere, Jarod reasoned, but the helicopter above meant that the sweeper teams were on their way if they were not already there. He looked up, trying to see anything about it that might tell him if the Centre was there or not. The roar of the blades was deafening as the chopper remained positioned above them. It held steady, keeping a lighted eye on them in the night. Then, the level of sound doubled to a painful level as a second helicopter approached with another searchlight.
The first helicopter jockeyed for position above Stoltz before it suddenly made a hasty retreat into the sky, shutting down its searchlight. Jarod watched it sail away into the night as the second arrival took its place.
The new twist only added to the uncertainty of the moment until he heard the helicopter's outboard speaker say, "This is the Delaware State Police. Backup and medical are inbound to your location."
The words registered slowly in Jarod's head. Help had finally arrived. Neil was the priority if that was true. He pointed frantically in the direction of the trail, trying to tell the pilot that the real trouble was there, not where Stoltz lay bleeding yet subdued. The pilot saw his signal and assured him someone knew of Neil's plight. "Rescue units are already on the scene on the trail."
Jarod's body felt weak with relief. Somehow, something had fallen into place to bring the rescue unit to Neil's side. It had to be Mildred. She would have known something was wrong when they missed the time to check in with the office. Case had been adamant that no one go alone, that everyone be safe in their job. She knew he would never break his own rules. That was not the kind of man Neil was. Her concern for him had been apparent the first time Jarod had met her, and it just might be the factor that would save his life if the rescue units arrived in time.
Stoltz clawed at the ground in pain, scraping up clumps of black dirt in his fists. Jarod could only imagine the pain Peter felt from the mangled ankle. Bits of bone stuck out at grotesque angles from the flayed skin where the points of the trap had penetrated. The tourniquet was effective in stopping the gushing blood from the wound, but it would not be long before there was permanent damage to the tissue. Even with all his experiences, Jarod doubted there was a way to save the ravaged remains of the foot.
He sat back on the ground, exhausted from the ordeal. The whine of the helicopter blades proved mesmerizing in the swirl of forest debris kicked up by the downdrafts. The pilot rotated the aircraft to steady it against a crosswind blowing in from the ocean. The searchlight panned a bit in his efforts.
The cleat of the boot was visible under the leaves when Jarod spotted it a small distance away from him. Then the helicopter maneuvered again, and the shift in wind caused the leaves to rise up into the air. Underneath lay a figure clad in black, prone and unmoving. The stranger was lying there, unconscious or perhaps dead.
Jarod got to his feet and approached the body with caution, aware that the Centre was not above such tactics as playing possum. He pulled the thirty-eight Neil had given him from the small of his back and pulled back the hammer as he neared. The stranger's arms were splayed in a toneless fashion, like a suspect told to lay prostrate on the ground. A matted silver handgun glinted in the sweep of the searchlight.
The long hair of the stranger was familiar, indeed the entire physique. With trepidation, Jarod bent down and grasped the stranger's shoulder. He kept the thirty-eight in a defensive position, ready to fire if needed to protect himself. Then he turned the body over in one smooth motion and stepped back to gain a firing position if it was all a trick. What he saw shocked him, renewing the adrenaline that had been diminishing moments before he spotted the body.
Miss Parker had been shot.